Neverwinter Forest A bad penny always turns up.

He had looked everywhere, and found nothing. Not a single trace of his sister. When he'd gone back to where he'd last seen his father, the man had moved on too — which meant Stone was utterly, pathetically, alone. Travelling with Aditya had been quite a process of itself, and as desperate as the boy had been to follow in his father's steps, he wasn't entirely put-off by his absence. He gathered himself after a few days of loitering in the area, and then did what he had to do: he moved on.

For weeks he wandered, picking off small creatures when he could find the drive, but more often than not seeking out the discarded carcasses of things he found; he grew thinner, but staved off the worst of his hunger. Eventually Stone's desire to reunite with any shard of his shattered family was gone — he dreamed sometimes of Brook, or of a river coursing endlessly to the edge of the world, but upon waking would rarely recall these figments. All he wanted now was the security of a pack.

When his path led him in to a forested valley he wasn't entirely cognizant of all the signs around him. Those little things that would've told any other experienced wolf that the forest was claimed. He did find a strong food scent as he trailed along the territory fringe, and without much of a look around, plunged across that invisible line to where a cache lay exposed; as he came upon it, a stoat-like creature shrieked and turned to bare tiny needle teeth at him, earning a breathy snarl from the boy.

It was easier than she thought to continue with her routines, probably because they helped her keep her dwelling to a minimum. Patrolling was something she often did anyway, but she had spent more time than usual today, making her way along the edge of the forest in search of anything that didn't seem right. She knew it was her way of avoiding the feelings she didn't want to deal with. Normally once she was settled into a rhythm, it was easy to push everything else out of her mind, but today was proving to be annoyingly different. No matter how focused she tried to remain on her task, the thoughts kept working their way back in. So that by the time the stranger's scent filled her nose, she was feeling pretty grumpy.

She thundered forward towards the scent, expecting to find someone standing on the edge of the territory. For some reason, the thought irritated her. But what she found when she finally arrived was not at all what she had anticipated. The stranger was well over the borders and even had the audacity to be rummaging through their cache, or that's what it looked like. Her training had prepared her for this; the whole reason she wanted to learn how to fight was to protect the forest. So she sprang forward, releasing snarl into the air between them. She quickly jumped between the cache and the intruder, possibly pushing him back a little if he were already too close. Her teeth bared, she tensed and readied herself to lunge forward. It didn't register through her anger that he was young, but even if it had, that may not have stopped her. All she saw was a wrong that needed to be righted with teeth.

He spotted the stoat complete with its bold display of teeth, and the first thought he had was to confront it, perhaps kill it. The contents of the pilfered cache were meaningless to him. However, no sooner had he brandished his own scowl at the livid little thing did a fresh body spring out of the foliage.

The blur of white startled him backwards at a scramble. His tail naturally tucked against his belly but he retained a sharp quality to the posture of his forequarter, his head raised and chin slightly tucked. The stranger was much more aggressive and forthright towards him, seemingly oblivious to the true culprit. There wasn't time to speak or really even breathe, but the stoat treated this newfound threat with a fresh screech.

The screech made her pause, furious gaze whipping to the source of the sound. She was frozen for a few moments, unsure what exactly was happening. She hadn't noticed the creature in her rage and urgency to intercept the intruder. The situation was strange enough that it had her second guessing her initial understanding. But even if he had just accidentally chased the creature across their borders, he needed to know the error of his ways. Maybe he had been draw to the scent of their cache and the weasel was just a bonus. She had no way of knowing without asking, and she was too angry right then for talking. The annoying thing screeched again and took off, and Simmik's limbs moved from where they had been tensed and rooted to the ground in indecision. Before she realized what she was doing, she was chasing the creature through the trees, curving around trunks and barreling through underbrush. She chased the prey until in disappeared inside a rotting log. Simmik leaped on top but the decaying wood buckled and crumbled under her weight. A shard of bark caught the flesh of her foreleg as sunk down, but she hardly noticed it. The weasel was scrambling around beneath her clearly caught under her weight. She couldn't reach it with her jaws, though, and was afraid that if she shifted to get a better angle, she would free it.

He watched the stranger's attention flicker between himself and the small creature, and when the stoat reared up and bolted for the safety of the forest - with something small and rotted clutched in its little mouth - the white wolf flowed after it. Stone wanted to as well; he was tugged by the same instinctual desire to chase, and could not hold back for long. It all happened so fast: the hollow log, the crunch, the girl straddling debris, and Stone almost running in to her as the dust settled.

Deftly ducking away from her at the last second and weaving between motes of dust, the stilted boy shoved himself face-first in to the only opening that was available (which put the rest of him chiefly between Simmik's legs, rather awkwardly). He felt the base of his tail bump something (her ribs maybe) as he compacted himself as much as he could, hind feed dragging against the forest floor as he propelled himself after the stoat.

Simmik wondered if the intruder might have followed her, but was too focused on catching her prey to worry much about it; she would deal with him after if he was still there. It wasn't until he was very awkwardly positioned under, his tail beating against her flank that she even knew he was there. She realized then that he was trying to catch the creature too. He was her only option right now, considering that she couldn't move without releasing the stupid thing. But he wasn't really reaching for the right spot and with a frustrated grunt, she spat at him: It's over here. She tilted her head to the right where she felt the weasel struggling against her. She had already felt it's needle teeth in her side more than once, and she was ready for it to be dead.

At her prompting he arched his body and stabbed mercilessly with a paw, then his snout, in the direction she had indicated. It didn't bother Stone in the slightest that he might uproot Simmik in the process or potentially lose the target - the activity was exciting a sense of play in him which he sorely missed.

Uproot her was exactly what he did. She didn't even have a chance to say anything before her hind end was thrust up and over the side of the log, pulling her front half with it. She hit the ground with a thud, anger burning in her chest. He was supposed to grab the stupid thing while she held it down, not knock her over and risk it getting away. As soon as she was able, she jumped up to her feet and shook out her snowy fur. She sprinted around to the other side of the log and lifted up to set her front paws on the side. She wasn't going to jump on it again and have it crumble under her like last time; her front leg was still throbbing from the bleeding gash made by the dumb log the first time she fell through. Hopefully, this guy had managed to do something right and had caught the weasel in the time it took her to right herself and rejoin the hunt.

After catapulting the girl aside, Stone had launched himself after the goading creature with so much enthusiasm it was a wonder that he stayed in this dimension. He wedged himself in to the half-destroyed old log and as he reached for the stoat, felt a whirlwind of activity as the little thing fought for its life against his snout. Later, Stone would think about how much fun this whole game was while simultaneously mourning the death he perpetrated; but if he was to become a warrior, he had to get over that.

Snap, screech, escape -- that was the plan.

He managed the first two. The stoat chattered as it fought but shrieked inside the body of the log, and as Stone's teeth caught them, there came a crunch and then silence. Unfortunately, Stone had pushed himself so deep inside the log that he had effectively locked himself inside; the widest point undulated with his panting breaths as his ribs shifted. His hips and tail were outside, being too wide and sharp to be accommodated. 

On the bright side: he could wag his tail triumphantly regardless.

She watched the events unfold before her—listened to the screeching, the further splintering of the log as the intruder forced himself in, and then finally silence. Simmik stepped back and took a seat, waiting for the guy to extricate himself from the log and meet his consequences. Now that the weasel was dead and not screeching in her ear, she could properly deal with things.

Only, he didn't pull himself out. She stretched her neck to peer over the edge of the decaying trunk, realizing then that he was stuck inside. She released a small snort of amusement at his predicament. She could help him out, but nah. Besides, this seemed like the perfect time to call for @Mal, so she tilted her head back and called for him. Then she let her gaze fall back to the intruder, rolling her eyes at the way his tail wagged even now when he was stuck and in trouble. Did he not realize what he had done?

Huh. Wonder what was going on. Either way, Simmik was calling for him, so he was gonna show up as requested. That was kind of his thing, after all. He wasn't sure why -- he could make some guesses if it was at the borders, but this wasn't. So what was it? He'd find out soon.

And when he showed up the scene, his typical grin faded to confusion. He could smell blood and who the hell was that and uh. What? Just that. "What?" was a good entire sentence in itself. That small spike of panic because she was bleeding -- he saw it now -- and he went up to her for a closer look, Okay I'm gonna need an explanation because, yeah. Are you okay? Who even is that and how did they get here? The last question was accompanied with a point of his nose at the unfamiliar rear end poking out of the log.

It was getting stuffy inside the log. A big swampy too, considering the leaking faucet that was the stoat's body; it was surprising that so much blood could fit in to a tiny package like that — anyways. Yes, it was gross and a bit claustrophobic, but none of it bothered Stone. He liked small spaces, and dark spots, and being able to squish himself where others couldn't. The only downside was that he couldn't get out.

And when a new voice broke in through the boy's self-made prison, he felt a spike of adrenaline.

New person!
New! Person!
Person-who-is-not-known!

Part of him was gleeful, another full of dread simultaneously, and he struggled to push off the log for escape, which only pinched in places and proved he was rightly stuck. From inside the log came his pathetic little voice, with the barest accent: Oh hello? Hellooo? There was a thing! She chased it and then I chased it and now I'm stuck! Help?

Yes, he's totally worth keeping.

She assumed Mal's concern was directed solely towards the stranger stuck in the log, so when he asked if she was okay, she looked at him with confusion at first. What? Oh— she glanced down to her leg. Yeah, I scraped it on the log, she said. I'm fine. her injury wasn't the biggest issue right now, although she appreciated his concern. She opened her mouth to explain, but then the the intruder's muffled voice interrupted her. Her jaw snapped shut and she glared in the direction of the log. 

Uh yeah, there was a weasel thing and I jumped on the log and trapped it, then he pushed me off and killed it, Simmik explained with an eye roll. But before that, I caught him trespassing. Found him at one of our caches. She shook her head. I was going to kick his ass but then the dumb weasel distracted us and now we're here, she finished, tilting her head to the dummy still in the log.

This post brought to you by way too much Stargate

Okay. But maybe get it looked at if it bugs you or something, yeah? It didn't seem bad, but hey, Mal was no doctor. Except then the guy spoke up. He looked back to what he could see of the stranger, suspiciously, Oi, you're good where you are for now. Like seriously, stop interrupting, sheesh. It was actually comedic, or would be in retrospect later.

But as she kept talking his expression faded first neutral, then a frown. Seriously, trespassing? Here I thought we were done with that nonsense, this better not be the start of a second wave of this. It wasn't exactly a pleasing thought. Seriously the early days of the pack were annoying as hell and Mal didn't want to go back. He looked back over to the dude, turning that way, his next words more as sort of an aside than particularly directed, I suppose we should probably get him out no matter what we do with him. He moved over to get a closer look at just how stuck he was, Mal spoke to Simmik as he did so, What did you think of his... Help I suppose? Always important to get a sense of things before they started trying to rip open a log with their teeth.

As Mal admonished him for speaking up, the waving tail paused in its motion and if one listened close enough, they'd hear a very quiet: ok sorry... from within the log.

She gave Mal a quick nod. Okay, I will, she promised. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, but if her wound bothered her, she would do as he asked. 

Yep, she said, irritation clear on her face. She looked over at the half of the intruder that was sticking out from the log then back to Mal. Hopefully, not. They had suffered enough to last a while; the last thing they needed was wolves coming around trying to mess with what they had built here. 

She released a capitulated sigh when Mal suggested they let the guy out of the log. She supposed it would be kind of shitty to leave him there. We could leave him in there for a while as punishment, she suggested with a smirk. She was mostly joking, but if Mal liked the idea...

As for his help: He did kill the weasel, she pointed out. That doesn't mean I trust him, though, Simmik quickly added. But I guess I'll help you let him out. She walked over to side opposite Mal, ready for his cue to start widening the opening.

Well, either way, they'd have to do a closer check of the borders probably... Make sure that there weren't any gaps this guy had wandered in through. Tempting. Though hey, if someone we know causes some trouble and gets stuck... A thoughtful eyebrow raise as he let her finish the thought herself. Look, if they weren't totally freaking out, they could probably all laugh about it later. It would require people to have a sense of humor, but he was pretty sure everyone still around might find it funny -- well, maybe not Cupid.

Then he spoke to the stranger, Well, you've got a little time to think about what you're gonna say to us. You've trespassed and now you're in quite a predicament. Mal think he saw a spot that would maybe break off easy -- whether that would free him, he didn't know. To Simmik, now, If you guys broke in to it, it shouldn't be too bad to break him out... Mal wasn't going to be hurting himself, that's for sure. So he lightly gripped on to a bit of the rotted wood, trying to pry it away without getting a splinter right in his mouth or something.

He was quiet while they talked. Stone couldn't make out everything they were saying and that might've worried any other wolf, but he was growing more content with the interior of the log the longer he was stuck there. It smelled awful, of course. The air was musty and growing ranker by the moment, but he trusted both the strangers in the way children often did, believing they would rescue him from this predicament.

Soon enough there was a tugging at the log, near his sides. He felt the tension shift and heard some cracks, felt them too, vibrating through the construct and in to his jutting ribs. It wasn't a pleasant experience. It would take more work than that to get him all the way out but Stone could, at the very least, take a few easier breaths - and the opening let in a clean shaft of air, which he drank in in greedy gulps.

She agreed with Mal's reasoning; the stupid log had easily collapsed under her weight, so it shouldn't be very hard to repeat that. She watched Mal grasp the wood in his jaws and try to pull, which managed to create a small opening. Taking a step back, she inspected the wood on her side. She notice that the part around the intruder's hip jutted out a little. She wondered...Lifting up on her hind legs, she placed her front paws on that very spot and gave it a few pushes to test things out. Then she lowered herself, immediately rearing back up and then slamming her front paws against the same spot. She heard a creaking sound, so she did it again, and then once more before a large chunk collapsed in. She fell forward some and the chunk of wood slid up and out. Simmik grabbed it with her her jaws and pulled. The chunk came with her easily and left a gaping hole, revealing more of the intruder inside. She wasn't sure if he would be able to back out yet, though, so she waited to see what would happen.

He started and there were a few nice creaks and splintering noises, but Mal was very cautious about not trying too hard. Mouths were kind of important, but since he didn't have hands, it was pretty much all he had to work with. Simmik worked from her own side of things, and made far more progress faster -- she knocked free a much larger chunk that he had so far.

In fact, she'd done a good job of pretty well compromising its structure. He felt some of the section he was working on give -- there was just less that it was connected to elsewhere across the log. Still, he wasn't just going to rip the whole thing open like some sort of crazy kid on Christmas, but did put a little bit more effort in just in case it would budge enough at once to let the guy out.

Maybe it was appropriate that he'd chosen this place to start over (even if it was the first place he'd found, and even if he'd made a massive blunder by exploring too deeply) because these two strangers were willing to help him out of this little pickle. That wasn't done out of the goodness of their hearts though; Stone was in the way and they wanted to get rid of him, but the boy didn't see that side of things. They worked together without saying much, and slowly the log came apart.

Stone felt the wood around him give. First one side, then the other, and then he was sliding out of the log along a skein of gore, almost as if the log were giving birth. In his teeth was the dead stoat. He spat it free as soon as his head cleared the rubble (puh-too!) and rolled backwards with acrobatic purpose, tucking himself in to a ball, and when he unfurled he was laying prone upon his back with a crimson bib exposed to both his rescuers.

A great big stupid grin was plastered on his face. That was fun! He chortled with exasperation, but then remembered how he'd messed up, and looked repentant. 'm sorry for the mess, mister—and misses, Stone looked from wolf to wolf with a knotted brow, making himself small where he lay, hoping they weren't about to murderize him.

It was kind of comedic the way the intruder pulled himself from the log, and if she hadn't been incredibly irritated by the whole thing, she might have laughed. But she found no humor in any of it right now. She waited patiently for him to pull himself free after they created a way for him to do so, her angry gaze tracking his every move in case he decided to make a run for it. 

But it was soon clear that he probably didn't have the brains to think that far ahead. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the grin he offered them, fixing him with a fiery glare as he exclaimed how fun this had been. His demeanor quickly changed, though, to something more fitting for the trouble he was in. The mess isn't what you should be sorry about, she snapped. You trespassed across our borders, Simmik continued, taking a step towards him. Explain yourself, she demanded, staring down at him with angry disapproval.

As the guy wriggled himself free, Mal quickly let go and skittered back a few steps, out of reach and tail stiffly out behind him. Mal kinda had trust issues, and wasn't gonna trust this guy. Speaking of, yep, Mal didn't recognize his face either, but he didn't seem to be taking it particularly seriously. Maybe more like a pup mentally than anything?

The first words out of the stranger's mouth also earned a frown from Mal, but Simmik's words in reply twisted it into sort of a smirk. Hell yeah, she knew what she was doing -- she'd pretty well covered everything. Now, Mal himself wasn't a heinously impressive wolf like some of the others out there in the world (he was pretty average all around, but hey, this was still his pack, so he at least earned his dominant stance), but other than pretending to be a brutish enforcer-y type for this instant, what else was there to add? Not really. But he also didn't feel the need to add something on to antagonize him either. No point, he'd just enjoy Simmik doing her work and interject later.

The intensity of the girl's stare was one thing, but the way she sliced in to him with her words was another altogether. Stone felt like he might spontaneously combust or something, and in a frenzy he tried to explain himself.

I'm so so so so sorry, really, I was walkin' through -- or, uh, by, I guess, and I smelled something really gross. I was havin' fun tryin' to find the thing, whatever the thing was that stunk, so I didn't really see where I was goin' or nothin'. But then there was the screechy thing! And then you! His eyes lit up as he told this tale, forgetting his humility for a moment. And it was all screeee! but you were like, snap snap! pow!! And then -- well, the log. His paws fanned the air as if to motion at the log, etc etc, because she knew the rest.

Stone took another deep breath and added: I didn't mean to trespass. I get excited sometimes — and I couldn't leave the screechy thing with you! I wanted to catch it. You can keep it, its not mine obviously, and maybe that'll make up for.... The crime? He was hopeful of that at least. The last thing Stone wanted was a pair of angry adults glowering at him for the rest of his life.

She had less and less patience for this guy the more his explanation dragged on, and it probably showed in the deepening of her scowl and the narrowing of her eyes. She couldn't be that much older than he was, and she would never do what he had done. But then maybe it wasn't his fault. She was torn between how angry she was that he had intruded on to what was theirs and the inkling of sympathy she felt at how childlike he seemed. Still, rules were rules, and he had broken one of the most fundamental rules of their kind. If they gave him too much of a break, he would learn nothing. The dead creature was nowhere near enough of a payment for his misdeed. 

It doesn't make up for the crime, she finally said. Not even close. It didn't matter at all to her that it had been an accident; in some ways, she felt like that was just as bad as if it had been intentional. Then she looked to Mal. We could let him stay and try to make him useful, but I don't really trust him to be able to follow rules, she commented. It's your call.